


See You on the Other Side

by novemberhush



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Always look both ways folks, Don't let the title scare you, First Kiss, Hurt Mike, Love Confessions, M/M, Mike just gets a little hit by a car that's all, No one dies in this I promise, No that's not a bisexual joke, worried Harvey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:30:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: Q: Why did Mike Ross cross the road?A: Because he's a big, dumb chicken.Or in other words, if you're going to run away from your feelings (and smoking hot lawyers who live to go above and beyond for you), make sure to look both ways first.





	See You on the Other Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChelseaBlij](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaBlij/gifts).



> Hey! I think this might actually be the last of my tumblr fics that I hadn't got around to moving over here yet. It's set somewhere late in season 6 and based on a prompt from ChelseaBlij, the prompt being, "Did I scare you, big boy?" Hope you enjoy it. :-)

  
_Everything you want is on the other side of fear._ \- Jack Canfield

  
Mike doesn’t immediately place the sound that rouses him out of unconsciousness, causing him to startle and try to sit up before an agonising pain shoots through his rib cage, eliciting a groan and putting paid to any idea of getting up right then.

“Easy, tiger,” a familiar voice, usually all scotch and silk, but with more than just a hint of gravel thrown into the mix right now, murmurs soothingly. Mike hears the metallic scrape of chair legs against uncarpeted floor and recognises it as the sound that had awakened him. Warm, strong hands gentle him back against the pillows behind him and he catches the scent of vetiver and cedarwood, coffee and worry, home and _Harvey_.

“Har … Harvey,” he manages to rasp, voice as hoarse as his comforter’s.

“Yeah, kid, I’m here. You’re all right. You’re all right now. Did I scare you, big boy?”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes for everything to come rushing back to Mike. Just those two little words. _Big boy._ Words they would normally throw around in jest. Grinning, mocking, pretending to flirt. Or pretending to pretend, perhaps.

Big boy. Just two little words that Mike had flung at Harvey only, what? Hours ago? Days ago? Mike’s not sure at first. But then his unfocussed gaze takes in the rumpled suit Harvey is wearing, the same one he had been wearing when Mike had thrown a tantrum and harsh, ungrateful words in Harvey’s face and figures it must be the same night. 

Although, of course, there’s a whisper from his guilty conscience telling him that Harvey would never have left his bedside to go home and change no matter if Mike had been out for hours or days, not until Mike had awoken and Harvey could see with his own eyes that he was all right. Just as he knows wild horses couldn’t have dragged him from Harvey’s side had the roles been reversed, and that’s a scenario that doesn’t bear thinking about.

No. Instead he thinks back on how he ended up here. How they both did. He remembers the steaks they had eaten at dinner, the wine they had shared, the easy conversation that had flowed back and forth. Until Harvey had raised the subject of Mike coming back to work with him now that both the teaching job and the one at the legal clinic had fallen through.

And, God, Mike wanted that. He wanted that so much. But he wanted more, too, and he didn’t know how to tell Harvey that. Didn’t know if it would be a welcome confession.

And so he had reacted badly. Happy that Harvey still wanted him in his life, but angry that Harvey couldn’t seem to see he wanted their relationship to be more than professional, more than friendly, more than … anything. Angry that Harvey hadn’t realised that had been the reason things hadn’t worked out with Rachel, or with anyone. Harvey was the only one he wanted things to work out with, but he remained maddeningly tight-lipped on what exactly _he_ wanted from their relationship.

Yes, he wanted Mike back at the firm. Yes, he wanted them to go out to dinner together, to get drinks together, go to the movies together. He obviously enjoyed their flirtatious banter and he even seemed to want Mike at his condo more and more often these days. But did he want them to be _together_ together or was Mike simply projecting his own hopes and feelings and wants on to him? Mike had tried so many times to raise the subject, but somehow the words never seemed to come out right.

Four little words this time, instead of two. _Do you love me?_ That’s all it would take for Mike to get his answer, one way or the other. To let him know he was loved the way he loved Harvey. Or to at least free him from the limbo of not knowing. Allow him to begin trying to come up with some kind of plan to, what is it they say (whoever _they_ are), that trite little expression Mike hates with everything he has in him? Oh yes, _move on_. As if there could ever be any moving on from Harvey.

But none of that had come out at dinner, across the table from each other once again, and really that was never good for them. They always did better when they sat side by side, on the _same_ side, facing the world as a united front, standing or falling as one, but always _together_.

Instead the argument had continued out on to the sidewalk until finally Mike had hissed at Harvey that he was a big boy now, he didn’t need Harvey Specter, or anyone else for that matter, holding his hand as he made his way in the world. And then he had turned away, even as his heart was urging him back, storming away from Harvey and unthinkingly walking straight out into traffic. He only had time to register his name shouted in Harvey’s voice before the car had struck him and he mercifully blacked out just as the pain began to filter through seemingly every part of his body.

And now, here he was, in a hospital bed with Harvey by his side, uttering those two stupid words he had hurled at him earlier. _Big boy_. Except … there’s no animosity there. No resentment to Harvey’s tone, no accusations or recriminations. Only concern, trying to hide behind forced jollity. And suddenly Mike knows it was never about that question made up of four little words. It’s about a statement of fact made up of three.

Three little words that he suddenly knows in his still aching bones that Harvey has been waiting for, waiting to hear from him, in reply to that same question Harvey has asked him so many times, in so many ways, without ever _actually_ asking him. This whole time Harvey has been just as scared as him of voicing it out loud, in no uncertain terms, and so instead he’s couched it in so many different ways.

_Do you want to have dinner tonight? Movie marathon at mine this weekend? Why did you take the deal? Do you trust me? Are you sure you and Rachel are done? Will you come back and work with me?_

With every question Harvey has really been asking, _do you love me?_ And Mike decides it’s high time he gave him an answer.

“I love you.”

The firm, yet gentle, hands still as the words linger in the air between them and Mike can see Harvey studying him carefully in the little light there is in the room.

“I’m not concussed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or high from whatever’s in this IV,” Mike adds, before considering. “Well, okay, I probably am. Both those things. But that’s not why I’m saying it. It’s been on the tip of my tongue for so long now and I can’t swallow it down anymore. I had to say it.”

Harvey still only looks at him, and for a horrible moment Mike thinks he’s maybe just ruined the best thing he ever had, but then Harvey smiles a little and tilts his head, pure fondness absolutely radiating out of him as he takes in Mike’s face and the sincerity of his words.

Mike smiles then, too. Knows he’s got him, knows he was right. Still, he can’t help falling back on their usual teasing.

“What’s the matter, Harvey? Cat got your tongue? Did _I_ scare _you_ , **big boy**?” Mike deliberately emphasises the last two words, grinning cheekily up at the still silent, and unless his concussion really is playing tricks on him, ever so slightly _blushing_ Harvey. And, really, that’s a sight he _never_ thought he’d see.

But then those hands are moving again. One coming up to lovingly smooth his hair back while the other carefully cups his cheek and Mike can’t help but turn into the touch, like a cat prodding to be stroked. Harvey obliges, caressing his face before leaning down and brushing the softest of kisses against Mike’s lips.

“Yeah, you scared me,” he whispers against Mike’s mouth when he pulls back much too soon for Mike’s liking. “You scare me every time you walk away from me and I think it could be for the last time. But tonight you really went above and beyond. Did you forget big boys always look both ways before crossing the street? Didn't 'The City on the Edge of Forever' teach you anything?"

He smiles a little then, but Mike can see all the pain and worry that lies beneath the apparently lighthearted rebuke. The smile fades as he continues talking. “Seeing that car hit you and not being able to stop it. Seeing you lying there in the street, unconscious and bleeding, not knowing I was there, not knowing I love you, or how _much_ I love … yeah, you scared me, Mike.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Ssh, none of that. You’re going to be all right. The doctors said so, and I don’t give you permission to be anything else, so let’s just concentrate on getting you well enough so we can get you out of this bed and …”

“Straight into yours?” Mike can’t resist asking, with a smirk.

“Yeah, and straight into mine,” Harvey replies, his own smirk very firmly in place, but doing nothing to diminish the tenderness Mike can see shining clearly in his eyes.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Mike purrs, and Harvey snorts before fixing Mike with a look that lets him know he means exactly whatever it is he’s about to say next.

“And Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“In future I will be holding your hand wherever you go in this world, but _especially_ when you’re crossing the street.”

And really, Mike thinks, he’s okay with that. There’s no one he’d rather walk through this world with, side by side and holding hands with, than Harvey Specter.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be shy, come say hi! Let me know what you thought in the comments section here, or over on tumblr, where I'm also known as novemberhush. Thanks for reading. xxx


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